


Stars My Destination

by AceDhampir



Category: The Expanse (TV), The Expanse Series - James S. A. Corey
Genre: Other, but ive had this idea for days, i have no idea when this takes place
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 08:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14807430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceDhampir/pseuds/AceDhampir
Summary: Joe Miller wakes up alive and well on a derelict ship just outside the orbit of Venus. With gaps in his memory and a blue glow that won't leave his palms, he's faced with being brought back at the whim of the protomolecule. But are his new gifts and a second chance at life a curse, or does he really have the ability to bring this threat under control?This is a multi chapter series written on a whim.





	Stars My Destination

Emptiness. It feels soothing. Calming. 

 

This must be the after life. Months of rest, years, maybe, and feeling like a fetus in the womb; safe, protected. He feels like he’s been floating in liquid, enjoying the nutrients the womb provides and feeling the warmth wash over. Voice chatter, mostly musing at when they can go home, calling out to others, and even whispering his name.

 

It’s always her and her voice that’s the loudest, thanking him for bringing her home and letting her free. Free of what? From who? If only he could remember…

 

Time passes. His eyes remain shut as he floats endlessly along...or is he stationary, just floating up and down as curious hands start to trace his form. He knows these hands. Soft, lithe, perfect, they reach around his front, caressing his skin and gently scratching it with fingernails. It’s the most wonderful feeling, the idea that she’s come back and searched for him in the afterlife, wanting to pull him towards her and gently pull him against her. The hands search, finally gripping around his shoulders. He lets out a startled gasp, feeling a sensation of soft lips on his own. There’s a pause, a soft, gentle laugh…

 

And then he buckles to his knees as suddenly solid ground appears underneath him. He collapses on hard metal, struggling to gasp for air as his lung suddenly realize they need it. He can feel some tendril still connect to his back, only to feel it detach from what has to be a ceiling and collapse next to him. The taste of artificial oxygen fills his mouth as he sucks in, finally forcing open his eyes to see what’s around him. The idea of being able to see shocks him, and he panics for a moment before a flutter of blue crosses his eyes, distracting him from the sudden sensations filling his head. He rolls over from his side to his stomach, using his fingers in an attempt to pull himself up. 

 

“Fuck,” the sound of a nearby voice catches his attention, confirming his suspicion that he isn’t alone. Scuffling forces his eyes to move towards the scrambling shape outside of his womb, making him wonder how long this second individual has been with him. Finally, he forces himself to his feet and wobbles, leaning against the wall as he struggles to keep his wobbly legs from collapsing under him.

 

“W...what the fuck?” Words come faster than he expected. English, too. He feels like English shouldn’t be what came immediately. “What the fuck.”

 

“Welcome to my world,” the second man’s raspy voice is...something. Not quite fitting the frame of a man who has to be only five foot nine, at the most, and looking a bit thin. Not Belter thin, of course, but more like someone who would need to fit into the tight spaces of a ship to keep others from spotting him. Ships, Belters, this information is slamming itself into his head, almost making him want to pass out from the overstimulation. Finally, getting his eyes open, he glances at his new companion.

 

“Your world?” His voice is raspy too, but not as bad. No, this other guy sounds like he’s chugging glass shards for breakfast. “What do you mean? Where am I?”

 

“I don’t know,” not something he wanted to hear. “Felt like I was-”

 

“Dead. Floating.”

 

“More or less.”

 

“Same,” there’s a moment where he finally gets a look at this other man, not at all shocked at what he sees.

 

He’s coated in growths and glowing bits, some even sticking out like horns. They pulse a faint blue color, occasionally sinking into his skin and making his companion moan in pain. He can feel it too, though his feels more gentle, sinking into his back with every passing minute. Other than that, patches of scruff cover his face, and one of his eyes is covered in the blue growths, obscuring his vision. His other eye, however, is open and glowing a bright cyan color, occasionally allowing the puple to casually zoom in and out as he eyes his surroundings...whatever they are.

 

“Are we in a ship?” Raspy asks. “I felt the shift when I fell out of the ceiling. I think, if we didn’t have boots on, we’d be in zero g.”

 

He has a point. Indeed, they are both wearing boots, though Raspy doesn’t seem to be wearing a suit. Infact, his torn clothing might not last longer while those growths continue to recess. 

 

“The hell kind of ship-”

 

“A flying one,” a third voice, also male, emerges. He sounds pleasant, if not a little scared and uncomfortable being around strangers. The first man dubs him “nervous” for that light stutter in his voice. He, too, is covered in glowing growths, and like Raspy, they seem to be slowly succeeding back into his skin. That has to be painful.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“It’s flying..er...uh, it was. I don’t know how.”

 

“You sure it’s not just floating?” Raspy asks.

 

“It was moving,” the first voice confirms. “But now it’s not. And it’s not gonna move unless one of you knows how to pilot a ship,” he feels strange, he should be asking questions, not making suggestions.

 

“I don’t know, do you?” Raspy asks Nervous, who makes an odd noise before he simply nods. 

 

“Took some training.”

 

“I...I gotta ask. Where the hell are we?” Raspy seems to be back on track, and looks to the first man for answers. He simply shrugs while Nervous makes his way to a cockpit. Settled in, he eyes the others below as if waiting for orders to continue. “What about  _ who _ are we? I’m starting to remember.”

 

“Then we all should be. Maybe we crashed?”

 

“Uh,” Nervous clears his throat. “We’re outside Venus, according to the maps. And uh...it’s gonna be a long time before we make it anywhere else.”

 

“Well, we got a ship, we got some air, there’s gotta be supplies still left over. If we’re alive, then we haven’t be salvaged yet by pirates. That’s a good thing.”

 

“Until they find us drifting back to wherever we came from,” Raspy add.

 

“Well, I can’t see any previous destinations,” Nervous clicks a few buttons on the display, working on trying to make heads or tails where they might have come from. “I can get us to Ceres with fuel still left in the can. But um...I don’t really know where else to point us.”

 

“Ceres…” The first man, who has yet to give himself a nickname, rolls the name in his mouth a moment more. “We should go. There’s something nagging at me. Do you feel it?”

 

“...Kind of,” Raspy admits. “Not that it’s the most important thing in my head right now.”

 

“We’ll start there,” he decides, watching Raspy and Nervous with rapt interest. “And then we’ll figure out what the hell happened on the way.”

 

“I guess,” Nervous doesn’t seem to be convinced this is at all a good idea, but decides to make it so. Raspy eyes First, who collapses in a crash couch and settles in. 

 

“I remember this. It’s...hell. Space travel,” First watches Raspy as he nervously sits down and straps in. “The cocktail is never fun, almost always feels like getting my ass kicked and then knocking out my own teeth.”

 

“Yeah, well. It’s not my first time either. I don’t remember what time it was,” Raspy settles in, managing to find a mouthguard that looks rather unused before almost popping it in his mouth. “What else do you remember, a name? Anything else?”

 

“My name?” First pops out his mouth guard, inhaling just a second before Nervous kicked the ship into high speed. The big metal ship jerked, flipping itself over to propel itself from its resting spot on the outskirts of Venus, moaning in protest as long silent engines roared to life. 

 

“My name is Miller.”

 


End file.
